


Friendly Advice

by ohhaypsy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Purple Hawke, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhaypsy/pseuds/ohhaypsy
Summary: Hawke knows Cullen too well and tries to give him a push.





	Friendly Advice

**Author's Note:**

> I started a replay of Inquisition and totally forgot I had this stashed away. Hope it's up to snuff!

“Oh, Varric didn’t mention that the stray Tevinter you’d all picked up was so _pretty.”_

Cullen should have startled, on edge as he was after the attack on Haven. But since Varric had mentioned bringing in a ‘friend’ to help deal with Corypheus, Cullen had been expecting the former Champion of Kirkwall to sneak up on him at one point or another. Though Cullen had assumed Hawke was still managing to avoid Cassandra -- he hadn’t heard her yell since she’d managed to corner Varric.

“Not the sort of thing I’d expect him to keep you updated on.” Cullen turned around, leaning back against the wall, watching Hawke as carefully as the other was watching him. Three years had changed them both quite a bit, but Cullen hadn’t been prepared for just how _old_ Hawke looked. Strands of silver and white had worked their way into his beard and hair, though if Cullen was honest, they somehow made the man even more handsome. The lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened -- Cullen remembered them as laughter lines, but the new furrows in his brow that now accompanied them had changed their nature.

More than anything though, Hawke looked _tired._ Being on the run for three years would do that to a man. Not to mention spending years before that trying to single-handedly right all the wrongs of a place like Kirkwall. The exhaustion hiding behind his eyes wouldn’t be cured with a few good nights’ sleep, even if such a thing were possible. It was a look Cullen saw too often in his own reflection.

Hawke held Cullen’s gaze for a long moment, as though taking the measure of the younger man, before his features fell into his characteristic grin. It looked effortless, hiding his past, what he’d seen and done, behind his natural charm.

 _That_ was a look Cullen had gotten accustomed to seeing on another man’s face.

“You’d be surprised at what Varric keeps me updated on.” Hawke moved to stand beside Cullen, watching the mages train in the courtyard, but he kept his body facing Cullen, arms folded and hip cocked against the wall. “Like the fact that our dear Knight-Captain put up only a perfunctory protest at the Inquisition allying with the rebel Mages.”

Cullen could feel himself bristle as he straightened, glaring daggers at Hawke. “I _left_ the Order, Hawke, I am no longer that man, and I am doing _everything_ I can to--”

 _“Cullen.”_ Hawke moved closer to Cullen, expression concerned as he settled his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, fingers threading into the fur of his mantle. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve known you for ten years. Carnally, a few times.” That damnable smirk. Of course Hawke would bring up their dalliances from years ago. The man never could take anything seriously. “You stood beside me against Meredith. I, of all people, know exactly how you’ve changed. I was lucky enough to witness it.”

Hawke’s gaze was too searching, and Cullen had to turn away from it. The elder man had a way of seeing through to the heart of people, as evidenced by the ragtag band of misfits he’d always surrounded himself with. It was that -- among other things -- that had initially drawn Cullen to Hawke. It had been a youthful infatuation, not unlike the one Cullen had held for the Hero of Ferelden. But with Hawke, there had also been a good amount of hero worship involved. Despite Hawke’s borderline illegal shenanigans and rather questionable choice in allies, he never seemed to lose his moral compass. Hawke was a man who had seen and suffered some of the worst the world could offer, and still somehow manage to look for the good. In so many ways, Hawke was the kind of man that Cullen had always aspired to be.

Not that he’d ever tell Hawke that. The man would be insufferable in his preening.

Cullen knew that he had let the silence go on for a moment too long when Hawke’s hands fell from his shoulders. He took half a step backwards, rubbing the back of his neck reflexively. Hawke turned to lean over the parapet, brief solemnity gone and once again filled with his usual swagger. “Anyway, the Tevinter. Nice to see one that isn’t all about slavery and blood magic. Palling around with a Qunari too. Good to know there’s some hope for the country. Though you do seem to have a thing for pretty mages, don’t you? That and the Amell bloodline, but I’d chalk that up to a coincidence.”

Hawke did so _excel_ at managing to catch Cullen off guard. “W-what?”

“Oh come now.” Hawke turned to fix Cullen with his knowing smirk. “The two of you are the talk of Skyhold. A lot of suspicious and or jealous talk, but in my experience, that usually means you’re doing things right. The noble Tevinter pariah and the rugged ex-templar commander. Varric couldn’t have written it better -- not to say that he’s not trying. He’s shown me some of his notes, and I must say, so far it’s much better than his previous attempts at romance. When Swords and Shields was first published, I thought Aveline was going to--”

 _“Hawke!”_ Cullen had finally managed to find his tongue, cutting into Hawke’s babbling. “It’s not like that, we-- that is--” Cullen could feel a blush creeping up the back of his neck. He’d known that many of Skyhold’s occupants had taken note of his regular chess games with Dorian, but had been unaware that they suspected -- guessed? _Known?_ \-- that there was more to their relationship -- _friendship,_ Cullen corrected himself -- than playful banter over the chessboard. He desperately tried to ignore Hawke’s amused grin as he took a deep breath to steady himself. There was no point in denying it. “We… enjoy each other’s company, yes.”

 _“Company?_ Is that what we’re calling it now? Seems to me it’s a bit more than that, judging by the way he’s giving me the evil eye up here.”

“What?” Despite himself, Cullen quickly turned to down into the courtyard, eyes immediately finding Dorian; Cullen _had_ been watching him earlier, under the premise of observing the mages train. Though rather than looking up at them, Dorian was currently assisting a young mage in adjusting her staff grip. She seemed simultaneously awed and intimidated by him and the individual attention.

Cullen scowled, turning away from the courtyard. Hawke’s booming laughter echoed, and Cullen could feel curious stares from down below. He resisted the urge to turn back and see if one of them belonged to Dorian. “Hawke--”

“You’re too easy, Cullen.” Though obviously entertained, Hawke’s tone held a note of warm affection. “We both know you’re not really interested in casual ‘company’. And if Varric and I have a good sense of the Tevinter -- and let’s be honest, we both know we do -- he’s not interested in it either.”

Maker save him from nosy, well-meaning comrades. Though Hawke was the first to broach the subject directly, Cullen had not missed the knowing looks from the likes of Varric, Leliana, and the Iron Bull every time they saw him interact with Dorian. And the worst of it was that none of them were wrong. In regard to Cullen, at least. Dorian’s feelings towards their liaison were a complete mystery to Cullen.

He hadn’t expected to foster a close friendship with the Tevinter mage who had burst into the war room at Haven babbling about time magic. Cullen had groused at first, but Dorian had more than proven himself time and time again, even before the fall of Haven.

And, well… Dorian was attractive. And charming. Oh sure, he was all bluster and arrogance, but underneath it all there was a sincerity and a strength of character that drove him to keep his head held high when so many sneered at him, to keep on anyway because it was the _right_ thing to do. It was a marvel to Cullen, who had spent seven years enabling a madwoman under the pretense of following orders, who had spent nearly as long _agreeing_ with her because of his fear.

Cullen was enamoured with Dorian, there was no denying that fact. But more than that, he was _friends_ with Dorian, and Maker knew he had few people he could count as such. That wasn’t something he was willing to risk due to his infatuation.

Feeling exposed up on the battlements, Cullen tilted his head towards his office, indicating that Hawke should follow him. Once they were in the tower -- doors closed, but not locked, Cullen needed to remain available to any messengers -- Hawke perched himself on the desk while Cullen sat in his rarely used desk chair.

“Is… are people really talking about us?” Cullen had little time or patience for gossip, willing to brush it off as idle talk, but he worried on Dorian’s behalf. The last thing the man needed was for people to assume that he’d seduced the Commander of the Inquisition. Not that it was completely untrue, but malicious intent could be read into it by people who assumed the worst of the man. Cullen insisted on playing chess in the gardens in an attempt to show that the Inquisition had nothing to fear from Dorian. Though it seemed that the attempt had potentially backfired.

Hawke gave a one-shouldered shrug, his arms folded across his chest. “You’re very dear to your men. Yes, they are suspicious, but when it comes down to it, they trust you. They just want to be sure you aren’t hurt.” Hawke grinned. “Also, the two of you are in the running for ‘Sexiest Couple in Skyhold.’”

Cullen sputtered as Hawke laughed. With a groan, Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maker, why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because I _know_ you, Cullen.” Cullen looked up at Hawke’s once more strangely serious tone. “I knew you at your worst, and I’ve seen you become your best, to do everything you can to make up for your past.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat rising on his skin again. Even moreso as Hawke continued earnestly. “I know you don’t feel you deserve the slightest bit of comfort or happiness, but love isn’t about what you _deserve.”_

Hawke was speaking from personal experience, Cullen knew. But he was coming from the other side of it -- giving love to the broken and undeserving, rather than trying to accept it when it felt unearned. Dorian knew that Cullen was an ex-templar and where he’d been stationed, yes, but he didn’t know what Cullen had said, what he’d done, what he’d _believed._ And Cullen wasn’t sure he could accept any affection from the man if he did know. That was a fear that had been haunting the back of his mind since he’d realized his amorous interest in Dorian went beyond the physical.

Though it was all academic anyway. “Regardless of what I deserve, Dorian does not feel the same way towards me that… that I do towards him. He’s made it rather clear that anything between us is casual.”

Hawke scoffed. “I know this might come as a shock to you, Martyr-Commander Rutherford, but you’re not the only one who tries to push people away for ‘their own good.’ For three years Anders insisted that he’d only hurt me, only drag me down, and--”

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?” Cullen couldn’t keep the snarl from his voice at the mention of Anders. Hawke’s lover or not, the man was a mass murderer, responsible for the deaths of too many innocents for Cullen to casually chat about his and Hawke’s romantic relationship.

Hawke was completely still, eyebrow arched and a warning in his tone. “Careful, Rutherford.”

Cullen was treading dangerous waters and he knew it. Despite not agreeing with his actions -- Cullen had heard the pain and betrayal in Hawke’s voice during the aftermath of the explosion -- there was no doubt that Hawke would defend Anders until his dying breath. The world had taken his family from him one by one, but he would not let it take Anders from him. As far as Cullen had gathered, Anders was a topic that not even Varric would broach with Hawke. The dwarf got notoriously touchy anytime the mage was brought up.

But Cullen would not sit there and be compared to Anders in even the most casual way. Especially not when it was closer to the truth than he would ever admit.

The glaring contest was interrupted by a knock on the door. Hawke had slipped into the shadows in the far corner when Cullen barked for Leliana’s scout to enter. The woman must have felt the residual tension in the room, for she quickly delivered the missive, made it clear that it wasn’t urgent, and all but fled.

Cullen sighed and moved to stand in front of his desk once the scout left. “... I apologize. That was uncalled for.”

Hawke was silent for a moment, arms folded as he looked away. “... I suppose it wasn’t exactly fair of me to bring him up and not expect that sort of response. No one really wants to hear about Anders.” Hawke’s smile was sad, but he once again moved to the desk. Both men sat on the edge of it, shoulders barely brushing. “I… haven’t exactly forgiven him, myself.”

Cullen wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, but he asked anyway. “I understand why you sided against the templars. I even understand why you spared him -- leaving his fate in your hands was unkind, to say the least. But why did you stay with him?”

“That’s the million gold question, isn’t it?” Hawke’s chuckle was almost bitter. “Even if I don’t agree with him, and certainly not his actions, I love him. And sometimes I wonder if I’m partially to blame. I watched him become more and more consumed by Vengeance, and ignored the signs. I was so scared of losing him that I didn’t realize it was already happening. I couldn’t save him from himself. I _failed_ him. Loving someone means protecting them from everything -- external _and_ internal. He regrets the path he took, but saw no other way.” His tone turned venomous. “And I stupidly tried to play neutral and uninvolved, rather than trying to find another way.”

“Hawke, you couldn’t have known--”

“I could have and I _did._ He was screaming for help in the only way he knew how and I didn’t listen.”

Despite himself, Cullen wondered about the side of Anders that only Hawke got to see in their private moments, the side that inspired such fierce loyalty and love. They’d both been at Kinloch, but Cullen had never really known the man. Only the increasingly ingenious escape attempts that seemed to defy belief. But even he could tell that the self-made martyr in Kirkwall was a far cry from the young man who held his personal freedom above all else.

But no matter how much Anders might regret, he would always be defined by the actions of his past. The similarity to himself made Cullen uncomfortable once again. And he couldn’t help but wonder if someone could love him in spite of himself the way Hawke loved Anders. Cullen wondered if he was even _capable_ of giving or receiving such a love.

“Dorian reminds me some of you, you know.” The words fell from Cullen’s lips before he could stop them. Hawke turned to him with an arched eyebrow and Cullen felt the back of his neck go red again. “You both hide a lot under false flippancy and rather annoying arrogance.”

Hawke laughed, bumping his shoulder against Cullen’s. “Apparently you really do have a type.”

“Well… maybe I do.” Cullen returned the smile, but it was brief as he looked down to the floor. “I do mean it though, Dorian has made it clear that he is looking for nothing intimate beyond the physical. When we do spend, ah, _time_ together, he always makes a point to leave quite quickly after.”

Hawke gave a long-suffering sigh. “Do you ask him to stay?”

“Well, no, but--”

“Try next time. You might be surprised by the answer.” Hawke brought a hand up to rest on the back of Cullen’s neck. He always was a tactile person. “You’re a good man, Cullen Rutherford. Anyone would be lucky to have you. But you have to give them a chance to show you that.”

Cullen swallowed hard, then nodded. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

“I suppose that’s a good a start as any.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've got two sentences of a Dorian follow up, hopefully this will kick my ass into gear on it.
> 
> Thanks for reading my nonsense.


End file.
